


Stick it to the Man

by Studpuffin



Series: Movie Aus [3]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, School of Rock! Au, Stoner Richie, and he's not doing his best at all, audra is a bitch, but like, dumbass richie, eddie is rock and roll bad ass at heart, eddie is sweetheart, he means well, he's such a bad influence on these kids but they love him so much, like he literaly lies his way to sucess, richie is a struggling artist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2019-08-19 21:44:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16542839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Studpuffin/pseuds/Studpuffin
Summary: “Aud come on. He’s my best friend.”“Best friend! Bill he’s a freeloading asshole. All he does I smoke weed, get us in trouble with the neighbors, and eat everything in our fridge. He doesn’t even pay rent!”Ah there it was. Richie had been wondering when she was gonna pull that out. He strained to hear Bill’s response. Freeloading asshole was new though. Last week he was a parasitic dirtbag. Little improvements.“You know he’s just going through a hard time right now.”Richie huffed softly. Yeah 23 years of hard fucking times. Although Bill was probably referring to his band breaking up."Richie is a struggling artist and he's really sucking at this "being a grown-up thing." So he does what any idiot stoner would do.He pretends to be his best friend to steal his job.





	1. That's Mr. Parasidic Dirt Bag to you

**Author's Note:**

> this is the school of rock au that was calling to me from the void like "bitch write me"
> 
> So here we are

Richie mashed is face into the pillow, groaning at being woken up so early. The sun was shining, birds were chirping. All and all it should have been a beautiful day.

 

Except for the screaming outside his bedroom door. 

 

At first, he’d been attempting to tune it out. Bill and Audra’s screaming matches were nothing new and usually enough pillows over his head and he was able to sleep through them. Just as he was about to bury his head under the covers, a particular phrase caught his attention. 

 

“-sleeping in our office for three months now! You said it was temporary!”

 

“Aud come on. He’s my best friend.” 

 

“Best friend! Bill, he’s a freeloading asshole. All he does is smoke weed, get us in trouble with the neighbors and eat everything in our fridge. He doesn’t even pay rent!” 

 

Ah, there it was. Richie had been wondering when she was gonna pull that out. He strained to hear Bill’s response. Freeloading asshole was new though. Last week he was a parasitic dirtbag. Little improvements. 

 

“You know he’s just going through a hard time right now.” 

 

Richie huffed softly. Yeah, 23 years of hard fucking times. Although Bill was probably referring to his band breaking up. Well not so much breaking up, but kicking him out of it. 

 

He was too much of an “attention grabber” according to their lead singer Patrick. 

 

_ Fucking Patrick  _

 

Richie kicked the covers off, dragging himself out of bed. He pulled his door open and smirked at Audra who looked ready to start screaming again. 

 

“Morning sunshine,” he winked at her as she fumed. 

 

“Fuck off Richie.”

 

“Aw don’t be like that Aud. You know you love me.” 

 

She didn’t bother giving him a response. She kissed Bill on the cheek, “Love you, honey. Go mold young minds. And think about what I said ok? I mean it,” and with that, she was out the door without so much as a backward glance.

As the door slammed shut, Richie flopped onto the couch next to Bill and flung an arm, “Bill my buddy. My man. Why the fuck do you stay with that she-devil.” 

“Because I love her idiot.” Bill shoved him affectionately and stood, heading towards the kitchen, “Want breakfast?” 

“Frosted Flakes!” Richie yelled after him, crossing his legs on the couch. 

“She does have a point though,” Bill sat down across from Richie, also crossing his legs.

“What?” 

“You gotta get a job, Rich.” 

“I have a job,” Richie mumbled around a mouthful of frosted flakes. 

“Smoking weed and writing music all day isn’t a job. You need money.”

Richie snorted indignantly, “You’re taking her side?”

“It’s not about taking sides, Richie. It’s just facts,” Bill sighed, “She’s gonna leave me.” 

“Oh thank GOD,” Richie grinned, kicking him in the thigh playfully, “Then we can get back the sexy, hard rock and rock hard, awesomeness that was Satan’s Sex Party. I still have the leather party pants,” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. 

Bill frowned, “Richie I’m serious. Either you get a job and pay rent or move somewhere else,” he stuck his empty dish in the sink and shouldered his pack, “And if Horace Greene calls take a message. I sent in an application a couple days ago.” 

Richie grunted in acknowledgment before flopping backward onto the couch and throwing his arm over his eyes. 

 

_ Bzzz Bzzz Bzzz  _

_ Bzzz Bzzz Bzzz  _

Richie rolled over, looking over at the coffee table and realizing Bill had left his phone. He sat up scooping it up and pressing accept, “Bob’s whore house. You got the dough, we’ve got the hoe.” 

A startled gasp came from the other end of the line, “I’m so sorry I’m looking for a Mr...William Denbrough? This was the number listed. I’m calling from Horace Greene about the substitute teaching position.” 

Richie choked on his coffee, “Oh uh...Yeah, I’m not him. But I am his roommate he’s…” he broke off, Audra’s voice hissing in his ear. 

_ Get a job Richie _

“He’s right here. Just walked in,” he grinned, lowering the phone and clearing his throat, making his voice slightly nasal in an attempt to sound like Bill, “Hi this is Bill Denbrough. I apologize for my roommate's behavior, he’s got a very twisted sense of humor.”

“He sounds...Interesting,” the sweet voice on the other line laughed softly, “My name is Edward Kaspbrak, I’m the headmaster. We got your application and your credentials are perfect for this school. We have an open substitute teaching spot in our fifth-grade class. Can you meet with me today so we can get you started tomorrow?”

_ This is a very stupid idea. You're a stupid person and this is a stupid idea. You can’t do this Bill will actually fucking murder you, you stupid son of a- _

“Of course! I’ll be there,” he grinned. 

“See you at 11 Mr. Denbrough.” 

 

Bev looked him up and down “You look like you run a sleazy car dealership.”

Richie sighed, tugging on his ill-fitting jacket, “It’s gonna have to do. I have a...job interview.”

“Job interview huh,” she grinned, “What for?”

Richie bit his lip, “Ok so I did something really bad.”

“Oh my god, you’ve finally caved to a life of crime. You’re a pimp. You’re selling drugs.”

“Bev Jesus christ no,” he laughed, “I umm...I answered Bill’s phone and may have... accepted a teaching job. As him.”

Bev choked on her coffee, “You what?”

“I know I know! It’s stupid. It’s very stupid! But I really need the money!” an alarm chimed on his phone, “I have to go! Don’t tell!” he hugged her tightly and ran out the door.” 

 

Eddie looked up at the knock on his door, “Come in.” 

Richie pushed the door open, “Hi, Mr. Kaspbrak? I’m R-Bill. Bill Denbrough.”

Eddie looked at him curiously then motioned for him to sit, “Nice to meet you. I’ve got to say...you’re style is not what we usually expect from our teachers.”

“Ah well, I’m just a sub. Guess I didn’t get the memo,” he grinned. 

Eddie gave him a small smile, “Well...you’re credentials speak for themselves. Your degree and your specialization in child development...You’re a great fit for our fifth-grade class.” 

Richie grinned, “Well great! I’m looking forward to it,” he ran a hand through his hair, “and umm...I have one request. Can you make the check out the cash? I’m having some banking issues.”

Eddie cocked his head, looking Richie up and down curiously, “That’s a question for Cathy in accounting. And if that’s all…” he gave him a little nod, “I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

Richie nodded, “Tomorrow,” he grinned, pulling on his backpack, “I’ll...bye,” he got up and hurried out of his office, door slamming behind him, “Fuck…” he gasped. 

 

“Bevvie, I’m screwed!” he sighed into his phone, “I’m lying and the principal is fucking HOT. All I want to do it rip that stupid little suit off him. And Bill is going to god damn kill me!” 

Bev laughed, “Richie you’re an idiot. I can’t believe you’re like this. That being said you better jump on that.” 

“I can’t! He thinks I’m Billy!” Richie sighed, resting his forehead against his steering wheel, “I am so completely fucked.” 


	2. You're in the Band

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ok, why the hell did none of tell me you could play music?”
> 
> Summer rolled her eyes, “Why does it matter Mr. D? It doesn’t have anything to do with our academics.”
> 
> “Why does it matter?” Richie laughed, “I thought you guys were a bunch of little douchebags but in reality, you’re a bunch of little soul brothers and soul sisters! You guys have music in you and that’s fucking badass! Music has, has history! So much history! And we,” he waved his arms wildly, “Are taking this awesome music to The Battle of the Bands! It’s an...extra credit project,” The children murmured excitedly as he looked around the room, “Here Zach, you ever play electric guitar before?”
> 
> “No my dad won’t let me. I only play classical.”
> 
> “Ok, that ends now. Come on up here,”

Richie laced up his boots, throwing on his jacket and his backpack. He hip-checked his door shut and almost slammed into Bill in the hall, “Jesus Christ dude you gave me a heart attack.” 

Bill looked him over and grinned, “What’s this? You’re up before noon. And wearing socks.” 

“Uh yeah,” he laughed nervously, “I have a job interview.” 

“Congratulations Rich! That’s great!” Bill slapped him on the shoulder encouragingly, “That’s awesome, good luck! Go go!” he shoved him gently towards the door. 

 

Richie hopped into his van, mumbling to himself in frustration as engine whined at the cold fall air. He cranked up the radio, singing loudly to himself as he rolled up to Horace Green Prep School. He sat for a moment, watching the student and parents as they filed in for the school day. He took a deep breath and shouldered his backpack, knocking his door shut. 

Why was he nervous? He was the adult here and this wasn’t his first day of school. And sure he wasn’t technically a teacher but he could handle babysitting a couple of brats for a few hours. What’s the worst they could do? Goof off for a couple hours then go home right? Fuck he was hungover. He could handle this. He’d give them some busy work then take a nap. Maybe get that cute principal’s number.

 

He dropped his bag onto the desk and turned to the class, “What’s up you little bastards,” he leaned against the desk, “My name is Mr. Denbrough. You can call me Mr.D or whatever the hell you want or better yet don’t call me anything because I’m gonna take a nap while you guys work on,” he gestured to the bulletin board, “Whatever the fuck that shit is,” he sat down and dropped his head down onto the desk. He heard a small cough and someone tapped on his desk. 

_ Ignore them, Riche. Take a nap and collect your check. Nap. God, I really want this nap.  _

The small voice coughed again. There was another knock, louder this time. He lifted his head and looked into the face of a small blonde girl who was looking at him with the same look he was used to getting from Audra. 

Disappointment and betrayal mostly. 

“Can I help you kid?” he sighed, resting his chin on his crossed arms. 

“We need something to do,” she raised an eyebrow and scrunched her nose up in annoyance. 

Richie sat up and sighed, “What’s your name sunshine?” 

“Summer.” 

“Perfect. Summer sunshine, you are in charge. Go nuts,” he dropped his forehead back onto his arms. 

Summer knocked on the desk again, “Aren’t you the grown up here? Shouldn’t you tell us what we should be working on?” 

Richie sat up, “I don’t know ok? Math or some bullshit.” 

“You shouldn’t curse in front of us.”

“What are you like 10? You know what curse words are right? Does it matter?” 

“You’re the grown-up, shouldn’t you be setting a good example for us?” 

“Sweetheart I am barely a grownup,” he laughed, “Ok, I’m gonna lay some real life shit on you kids got me? I am super hungover. Does anyone know what that means?” 

A kid in that back raised his hand. 

“Yeah, you. With the porcupine hair. What’s your name dude?” 

“Freddy.”

“Cool. Freddy, my short spiky friend what does it mean?” 

“It means you’re drunk!” he chirped happily. 

“Noooo no kiddo it means I was drunk yesterday,” he grinned, “But you were close so points for that. So here is how today is gonna go,” he clapped his hands, “You adorable lil overachievers are gonna continue doing whatever it is that you do to make yourselves Ivy League ready, and I,” he gestured to himself, “Am gonna take a nap. Oh, and if anyone wants to dip out and get me a bacon, egg, and cheese and a coke, I am gonna leave a 20 right on the edge of the desk.” he lay down on the desk and threw his arm over his eyes. 

“We can’t leave school grounds, Mr. D.” 

Richie lifted his arm, “Says who?” 

“Principal Kaspbrak,” the kid mumbled. 

“What’s your name kid? You look lanky I bet you could outrun that short stack if you had to.” 

“I’m Zach…” 

“Zach,” he sat up, “I’m gonna give you this 20 and I want you to make a run for it to that corner store. You got me?” 

Zach’s eyes widened, “Me?” 

“You heard me. Life is about risks. You have to grab it and make choices because that’s how you make memories. This,” he gestured to the building around them, “Isn’t gonna teach you shit. Life is what teaches you shit. Life is the best fucking teacher there is,” he held out the 20 dollar bill toward the kid, “So, what’s it gonna be Zachy?” 

Zach bit his lip and then took it, “I’m in.” 

Richie grinned, “That a boy Zach! Go grab life and get me my snacks!,” he gestured to the door as Zach darted into the hallway, “Alright kids take out those notebooks of yours and get to work,” he dropped into his chair and fell back asleep. 

 

Richie knocked on the door to Eddie’s office, “You wanted to see me?” 

“Yes, Mr. Denbrough. Come have a seat, “How’s your time at Horace Green so far?”

“It was fine I guess. The kids are cool.” 

“Right… Listen Mr. Denbrough I don’t know if you understand how things work here, but we were the highest ranking private school in the state. We hold ourselves to incredibly high standards. Our children are exceptional. Our school board and our parents demand that we hold them to a strict and rigorous educational standard,” he took a deep breath attempting to maintaining his composure, “And if you think and you can just waltz in here and it’ll be like another substitute teaching job, you are very much mistaken. We are not paying you to fool around. Our k-12 program pumps out the brightest and most prepared children in the county. These children go off to Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Cornell at worst.”

Richie shifted uncomfortably under the intensity of Eddie’s stare, “Of course. I can tell these kids take their education very seriously. And you know, if the kids gets out of line, I’m not scared to you know knock ‘em around a little.”

Eddie’s eyes widened, “No! No oh my god no we do not use corporal punishment here under any circumstance,” he closed his eyes and took another deep breath, “Look, Mr. Denbrough I’m gonna be straight with you, there is a lot of pressure from the parents to make sure these kids succeed and if anything happens to mess that up I am going to snap. Go ballistic. Freak. Out,” he looked up at Richie, “These parents pay $50,000 a year. Do I need to spell it out for you what that means for us? Do I make myself clear?” 

“Crystal…” Richie nodded, “Look Eds-can I call you Eds?” 

“Absolutely not.”

“Eds you look like you really need a drink,” Richie leaned on the desk, “Go out with me. I bet your super fun under that very tightly wound exterior.” 

“That is insanely unprofessional.” 

“And insanely true, I’m guessing.” 

“Look true or not it doesn’t matter,” Eddie blushed, “I just… wanted to check in and make sure you were settling in all right. You can go. Just… yeah, go leave. Please. I have a lot of work to do.” 

Richie stood, “Later Kaspbrak,” he winked, “Think it over and let me know if you want to get that drink.” 

 

The next morning, Richie settled behind his desk taking a sip of his coffee. The kids had some elective period and he planned to spend that hour napping under his desk. But he was a little curious to see what the kids did when they weren’t bugging him about algebra homework or English essays. He got up, stretched and wandered into the hallway. 

_ Music? Who knew this place gave kids room to do anything other than study? _ He laughed to himself. He looked around the corner into the classroom and gasped. These kids were talented. Really talented. Mold them the right way and they could be pint-sized rock gods. These kids were his ticket into Battle of the Bands. Unconsciously he reached for the flyer in his pocket, a plan formulating in his mind as he ran back to his car. 

As the kids reentered the classroom, they were met with Richie sitting on the desk surrounded by musical instruments. 

“Ok, why the hell did none of tell me you could play music?” 

Summer rolled her eyes, “Why does it matter Mr. D? It doesn’t have anything to do with our academics.” 

“Why does it matter?” Richie laughed, “I thought you guys were a bunch of little douchebags but in reality, you’re a bunch of little soul brothers and soul sisters! You guys have music in you and that’s fucking badass! Music has, has history! So much history! And we,” he waved his arms wildly, “Are taking this awesome music to The Battle of the Bands! It’s an...extra credit project,” The children murmured excitedly as he looked around the room, “Here Zach, you ever play electric guitar before?” 

“No my dad won’t let me. I only play classical.” 

“Ok, that ends now. Come on up here,” he handed him a guitar, “Try this,” he picked out the riff from Satisfaction, grinning as Zach copied him, “Hell yeah dude! Ok loosen up a little and really pop those chords. Try it now,” he started shredding again cheering Zach’s shy persona seemed to melt away as he played, “Sick! Ok next...we need a bass player,” he looked around and pointed at the girl he had seen playing the cello, “You. What’s your name?” 

“Katie…” 

“Katie get on up here girlfriend you’re it,” he handed her a bass. 

Katie shook her head, “Mr. D I only play the cello.” 

“Way ahead of you kiddo. Turn that cello sideways and cellloooo you’ve got yourself a bass guitar,” he knelt down next to her, “Here try this,” he tapped out the beginning of Smoke on the Water, “Think you’ve got it.” 

She nodded excitedly, following his fingers, “Like that?” 

“Kid you’re a badass,” he ruffled her hair, “Ok you, Lawrence front and center dude.” 

A shy Asian boy walked up to the front of the room and Richie steered him to the keyboard, “If you play the piano you can play this.” 

“I only play classical,” he looked up, eyes wide with panic. 

Richie put some music in front of him, “Jesus you guys all keep saying that. Roll with it kid. Try this,” he grinned as Lawrence's hesitant taps turned in to confident notes, “Dude that was awesome!” 

“But Mr. D, rock and roll is for cool people! I’m not cool! Look at me!”

“Oh how wrong you are my friend,” Richie leaned against the desk, “David Bowie. Rock icon. In the 70s, he was a weirdo with fucked up teeth, walking around London in a dress and people called him a freak and he owned the shit out of it! Ten years later he was doing the same thing and EVERYONE wanted to be like him. It wasn’t that he changed to be what people wanted, it was that he owned the fact that he was weird and made people think he was cool! Now own the shit of your nerdiness and blast that keys solo!” He beamed as Lawrence tried again, music flowing easier this time, “Ok next we need a drummer.”  

Freddy’s hand shot up, “I play percussion!” 

“Yeah only cuz you’re too dumb to play anything else,” Summer mumbled. 

“Shut up Summer,” he snapped. 

“Yeah Summer shut up for a second. Freddy come on over here,” Richie sat him down in front of the drum kit. Freddie tapped out a lame little beat and Richie nodded, “Ok that was good for my grandma. My dead grandma,” he grinned as the kids giggled, “Come on Freddy let it rip!” 

Freddy got a devious smirk on his face and banged out a crazy beat on the drum kit, head whipping wildly as he played. Richie was visibly vibrating with excitement, “Freddy I like you kid. You remind me of me.” 

Summer’s hand shot up, “What are the rest of us supposed to do?”  

Richie looked around the room, tapping his chin thoughtfully, “What can you do Summer? Can you sing?”

“No.”

“Play an instrument?”

“No…”

“Dance?” 

“Not really?” she frowned. 

“Ok, sunshine youuu are gonna be a groupie.”

“Aren’t those ladies who just follow the band around and try to make out with them and stuff?” she scrunched up her nose in disgust as Freddy cheered. Richie waved a hand at him to shush him. 

“No. No just think of yourselves as the band’s...cheerleaders!”

“I don’t want to do that,” She stared him down. 

Richie sighed, “Oh my god fine you know what Summer you’re manager. I’m putting you in charge of this whole damn thing Summer. Does that work for you?” 

Summer’s eyes lit up, “Do I get a clipboard?” 

Richie laughed “Sure you insane high maintenance grown up in a 10-year-olds body, you can have a clipboard. Ok next, we need back up singers.” 

Three hands shot up from a clump of girls in the back, “We sing!” one girl piped in excitedly. 

“Fantastic! Get on up here! Names.” 

“I’m Maddie. This is Kelly and Christy.” 

“Mads you’re dance captain. Crush it,” he spun to the room at large again, “Bobby! You’re our costume designer Mr. Fancypants.” 

“Yay!” Bobby practically shot out of his seat to grab paper and pencils, “Mr. D what size shorts do you wear?” 

“Check in with me later but I love that enthusiasm!” he laughed, “Ok...you two on tech. You three, Roadies. You three are security. The rest of you are groupies! And we have our band! Now,” he put on his serious face, “Everyone stand and raise your right hand and repeat after me,” he waited until they were all on their feet before continuing, “I pledge my allegiance to the band.” 

“I pledge my allegiance to the band,” 20 little voices called back to him.  

“And I promise to give Mr. D creative control because he’s the cool grown up,” he smirked as they said it back, “And I promise to put my whole heart and soul into the music and rock my butt off every chance I get,” Once they repeated it back, he clapped his hands excitedly, “Alright my little dudes and dudettes. Let’s get started with our first rehearsal!”

 

As the final bell rang Richie jumped up on the desk, “Wait wait! I have homework for you!” he jumped down and pulled out a box from under the desk, “Line up troops,” he dug around, “For you Zach… Jimmy Page, Hendrix, and the late great Kurt Cobain. For Freddy, we’ve got John Bonham, Neil Peart, and Mick Fleetwood. Katie, let’s see we’ve got Tina Weymouth and Aimee Mann. And for you Lawrence Lord of the Keys I’ve got Elton John, Freddie Mercury, and Dennis DeYoung. As for the rest of you, these are the bands you need to listen to in order to fulfill your classic rock primary education; The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, AC/DC, Fleetwood Mac, Queen, and Pink Floyd. I want you to come in with at least one song from those bands you resonate with. Now go forth, children! Go forth and rock!” He grinned as they kids filed out into the hall. 

He hummed to himself happily, rounding the corner, almost running headlong into Eddie. “Oh shit sorry Eds.” 

“How many times do I need to tell you not to call me that?” Eddie sighed. 

“At least 100 more times Edward Spaghetward,” he poked him in the cheek playfully. 

“Ugh,” Eddie swatted at his hands, “God that was somehow worse,” he laughed, “What do you need Mr. Denbrough,” 

“Just call me Richie. It’s my middle name. And I’m seeing if you want to grab that beer with me tonight,” he wiggled his eyebrows. 

Eddie smiled a little, “Richie look you’re really sweet. And I’m not gonna lie, you’re funny when you’re not being a gigantic pain in my ass. Stop looking at me like that I’m not done,” he bit back a smile as Richie smirked, “And as much as I really want to say yes, I just can’t. I can’t have people getting the wrong idea and with parent-teacher night coming up I just can’t risk getting into anything and-”

“Woahhh slow down there cupcake,” Richie laughed, “I’m not asking you to marry me, I’m asking for one beer. One drink. It’s on me, I’m paying,” he raised an eyebrow and leaned against his van. 

Eddie looked him up and down and then sighed, “Ok fine. Fine! One beer tomorrow night after school. And I’m gonna be home by 9. No funny business,” he poked his finger into Richie’s chest. 

Richie held his hand up in surrender, “No funny business. Cross my heart,” he winked sliding into his van, “See ya later Eddie Kaspbrak,” he grinned, rolling out of the parking lot, music blasting out his windows. 


	3. Baby, you've got my mystified

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie grimaced as he did the mental math in his head, “I was testing you it’s nine,” he looks over at Eddie sheepishly, beaming at what he sees.
> 
> Eddie is clearly holding back a smile. He’s cute like that. Brown eyes sparkling, biting his lip to hold back a laugh. He's clearly not buying Richie’s bullshit lesson but he also doesn’t seem to care very much at this moment. It’s infectious. It made Richie want to laugh too, “Well I can see you’re working very hard. Carry on Mr. Denbrough.” 
> 
> Richie’s heart twitches with guilt, wishing in that moment Eddie was saying Tozier instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACKKKKKKKKKK

“Ok, Freddy come in on the downbeat, ready? 5,6,7,8,” he air drummed with Freddy, jumping around the room, “Zach, play it high on G. Katie follow him, working those chord progressions we talked about.”

Katie nodded as Richie dropped into his rolling chair, sliding across the room, yelling as he slid, “Lawrence! Rock those keys, my dude,” he grinned as he skidded to a stop in front of Maddie, Kelly, and Kristy, “Ok girls follow me, ready?” he hopped up dancing with the girls, grinning as they followed him, “God you have the voices of angels. Awesome job guys this sounds great! But if we want to win Battle of the Bands we’ve gotta write a killer original song.”

“But Mr.D,” Zach frowned, “We don’t know a thing about songwriting?”

“Yeah we’re only 10,” Freddy sighed, “How are we supposed to write a rock song?”

“Well you won’t with that attitude my young padawans,” he started to pace across the classroom, “To write a good rock song, you can talk about lots of things. Sex, drugs, money, really anything. But to write a great rock song,” he sat down, crossing his legs under him on the desk, “To write a great rock song takes heart. You gotta dig deep. A good song tells you a story, but a great on makes you feel the story.”

“We’re 10,” Freddy repeated, “My best story is the time I broke my arm crashing my bike into a lamppost,” he deadpanned. 

Richie made a noise of frustration, “You’re thinking too literally. It’s the  _ feelings. _ About sticking it to the man!” 

“What do you mean? Stick it to the man?” Katie sat down on top of her desk, tilting her head curiously. 

“It’s like…” He sighed, “The man is the thing that keeps you down. That makes you get into the stupid rat race, pyramid scheme that is college and capitalism. The man doesn’t give a shit about artists and people who try to make a difference.” 

“Like Mr. Kaspbrak,” Zach mumbled. 

Richie smirked, “Exactly. So throw some stuff out there. What makes you guys pissed?” 

“Your fashion sense!” Bobby yelled from the back and the class erupted with laughter as Richie choked on his coffee. 

“Bobby, kid you are just fucking delightful,” Richie laughed, “Ok come on I’m serious. What’s something that pisses you off?” 

“Homework!” 

“Chores!” 

“My dad and his expectations!” Zach yelled cheeks tinged pink with frustration. 

“Yes! That! Channel that!” Richie grinned, “Guys the man ruined the ozone, took over the country and is trying to turn you into tiny little corporate robots!” 

Chatter broke out amongst the kids as the scrambled to grab their notebooks as Richie continued, jumping up on the desk “and guess what? Right now I’m the man. I’m your teacher. Who’s gonna tell me off?” He looked out at the room, challenging them. 

“Shut up Denbrough!” Freddy yelled from the back of the room. 

“There we go! Who else?” 

“You’re the worst teacher I’ve ever had!’ Summer grinned. 

“Summer I love it. I feel your rage. What else pissed you off?”  Richie looked around the room. 

“You!” Bobby chirped as everyone laughed, “You’re tacky and I hate you.” 

Richie snorted, “Easy kid,” he grinned, “I’m still your teacher.” 

Giggles erupted from the kids as Richie smiled proudly at them, “Ok so, are we feeling fired up? We’re ready to rock?” he beamed as they cheer, “Then let’s do this!” 

 

“He’s coming!” 

“Shit!” Richie hopped off the desk, peeking out the window on the classroom door, “Battle positions team!” he scrambled back over to his desk as the kids moved all their band instruments and flung themselves into their seats. He scribbled some math problems on the board, “And that kids, is why  E=m c 2 ,” he looked up as Eddie opened the door, “Oh hey there Eds.” 

“Don’t call me that,” he sighed, “Mrs. Cravits said she heard music over here?” 

Richie schooled his face into a look of innocence, “Us? Nope. No music here.”

“Uh huh…” Eddie bit his lip to hide his smile, “What’s that then?” he nodded towards the guitar in the corner 

Richie’s eyes widen, “Oh that! We...were doing math.”

“Math?” 

“Mmmhmm.” 

Eddie looked at him skeptically, “Show me.” 

Richie glanced sideways at the kids who are all wearing identical expressions of shock and amusement, as he takes the guitar in his hands. He strums a few chords before schooling his face into a cheery expression, “Math is a wonderful thing,” he looked nervously around the classroom, “Katie! Six times six is…”

“Thirty-six!” 

“Nice!” he danced his way over “and Kevin! Twenty-one divided by seven is…” 

“Three!” 

“Excellent! And Maddie eighty-one divided by nine is…”

“Nine.”

“No, it’s eight.”

“No pretty sure it’s nine Mr. D.” 

Richie grimaced as he did the mental math in his head, “I was testing you it’s nine,” he looks over at Eddie sheepishly, beaming at what he sees. 

Eddie is clearly holding back a smile. He’s cute like that. Brown eyes sparkling, biting his lip to hold back a laugh. He's clearly not buying Richie’s bullshit lesson but he also doesn’t seem to care very much at this moment. It’s infectious. It made Richie want to laugh too, “Well I can see you’re working very hard. Carry on Mr. Denbrough.” 

Richie’s heart twitches with guilt, wishing in that moment Eddie was saying Tozier instead. 

 

Richie pushed the door open to the bar and grinned, seeing Eddie sitting by the window, “Hey there handsome. I didn’t keep you waiting long did I?”

Eddie blushed, “Well considering you’re always late, I’m not too surprised. And don’t compliment me. This isn’t a date.” 

“So you’ve told me,” he grinned, “So Eddie Spaghetti, tell me about you.” 

Eddie shrugged, looking into his empty glass, “Not much to know. I work my ass off and I go home to hang out with my cat.” 

“Ok so surface level you’re boring,” he teased, “Come on Eds. Gimme the good stuff.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes, “God I don’t know why I indulge you. Ok. Fine. But we go back and forth. You gotta tell me something in return.”

Richie smirked, “I can do that. Sounds fun,” he signals to the waitress to bring them another round of beers, “You go first.” 

Eddie bit his lip, “Uh ok let’s see. I went to Princeton for undergrad and I got my masters at Yale. You’re turn.” 

“That’s a shitty secret Eds,” Richie laughs, “But fine. I went to University of California Santa Barbara for music and I was in a band with my roommate for a long time. And then he got a super bitchy girlfriend and decided to give up on our dreams of being rock stars to become a teacher,” he laughs. 

Eddie made a face, “Wait so how did you get into teaching?” 

Richie blushed, “It’s sort of just a temporary things. Hence the subbing. Roommate convinced me to give it a shot and I minored in music ed so,” He shrugged, “I’m still trying to get into music full time.” 

“Really? That sounds hard…” Eddie trailed off taking a sip of his drink, “I used to love music,” he sighed. 

Richie gave him a curious look, “Used to? What happened?” 

“My mother,” he laughed, “I loved to sing. Sang in church as a kid. I used to save up all my allowance and buy CDs and go to concerts.” 

“Really?” Richie beamed, “Who have you seen?” 

“Oh my god I saw Stevie Nicks when I was 17 and it was life-changing,” he sighed wistfully, “Her recordings don’t even come close to her singing live.” 

Richie lit up, “Stay right there, drink. I’ll be right back.” he got up from the table and headed over to the jukebox in the corner, flipping through the songs before settling on one. 

_ So long ago _

_ Certain place _

_ Certain time _

_ You touched my hand _

_ All the way _

_ All the way down to Emmeline _

Eddie gasped, “I love this song!” 

“I figured,” he laughed, taking another sip of his drink, “How does it make you feel?” 

Eddie smiled, a faraway look in his eyes, “Like I’m a teenager again.” 

Richie watched him intently for a moment, mystified by the golden light in his hair. 

_ So it's hard to find _

_ Someone with that kind of intensity _

_ You touched my hand I played it cool _

_ And you reached out your hand for me  _

Richie’s heart leaped in his chest. He let his fingers wandered across the countertop to link with Eddie’s, “So...I have a proposition for you. I want to take the kids to a concert.” 

“Oh…” he sighed “Richie I don’t know we have a pretty strict policy on field trips…”

“Eddie. Think about the kids. Think about the music.” Eddie hesitated for a moment and Richie continued, “What would you have wanted as a kid?” 

“I…” he sighed, looking up at Richie, “Are you used to getting what you want?” 

“Usually. I can be pretty persuasive,” he winked, “Come on. Eddie. Please?” 

Eddie rested his chin on his hand, sizing Richie up, “I’ll make an exception on one condition.” 

“And what’s that?” Richie took another sip of his drink. 

“Come to parent-teacher night with me. With me. Together.” 

Richie smirked, “Eddie Kaspbrak are you asking me on a date?”

“Believe me I’m as shocked as you are,” he rolled his eyes, “But yes. I like you. You’re funny and passionate about what you do, even if your methods are a little unorthodox. And the kids adore you.” 

“You don’t need to sell me on going out with you,” Richie laced their fingers together on the table top, “It’s a date.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bother me on tumblr: studpuffin 
> 
> Buy me a coffee: https://ko-fi.com/studpuffin

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me comments! Tell me if you love this! Tell me if you hate this! come bug me on tumblr @studpuffin


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